Cages
by jacobblack'sgirl
Summary: 15 year old Rhia moves to Forks when her mother remarries. Paul imprints on her. She strongly resists imprinting and refuses to have anything to do with him. Ignores BD. Being completely rewritten
1. Prolugue

Prolugue

In death as in life, there are choices that must be made. I'm just beginning to realize that, to feel the weight of it on me, like Paris with the Apple of discord. One wrong move could make the gods roar with anger and tear apart heaven and earth. I'm standing above them all weighing this and that, tossing them like a juggler would, keeping them up in a desperate attempt to escape from them.

Don't think, don't even breath and it will be okay.

I see my futures mapped out, countless threads, crisscrossing as they wind their way to the end. Some, of course, are shorter then others.

I have been here too long. It is time to make a decision, time to trust in something, for once. Faith, trust, and pixie dust. Faithtrustpixiedust. Maybe I'll turn into Peter Pan, young and invincible, brought low only by love. But then maybe I'll resign myself to Wendy and become one of many, a sooty flame snuffed out when it is time.

Maybe….maybe what?

Decide, force yourself thinking of all the options and choosing the one that hurts the least be fair to them for they know not what you do. Forgive me, Father. For I have had my eyes wide open this whole time.

And finally, choice. It comes like a bird, an ahh yes. It is right in its own way, as all madness is.


	2. Wasted

Then she looks up at the building  
Says she's thinking of jumping  
She says she's tired of life  
She must be tired of something

Round Here-Panic at the Disco

1.

There is a falling sensation in my stomach, like I have just stepped of a diving board into an empty pool. It is like all of the coffee I drank at the airport has finally caught up me, just when I need it the most. There is no terminal here, just a small runway and a crowd of people huddled at the gate. I can see my mother through the pounding rain and I keep my eyes fixed on her, one step, two step, closer now.

I guess that I am the only one caught in this time warp because no one else seems to be moving in slow mo. I catch a glimpse of Roger next to my mother, him of the buzz cut and stupid jokes. They are both dwarfed by the boy standing behind them, a serious boy looking much older then sixteen. My new step-brother, Collin. I wonder, almost franticly if he will like me. Then I remember it doesn't matter and pull forward.

I reach them and stand there, mute as stone. I feel like a living corpse, only half of what I should be. My mother gives an involuntary gasp and pulls me close. "Honey, have you been taking your medicine?" She whispers into my ear. I don't answer; just hold my hand out to Roger. "Nice to see you again." I say with perfect poise. He smiles, sure he has finally gotten through to me, that a week spent away from him has shown me what a good dad he will be? Maybe, whatever it is, he's wrong. I turn to the Collin and smile, a model's smile; tongue behind your teeth, head cocked perfectly, mouth lifted slightly. I have been practicing this.

He doesn't respond, just looks towards the baggage claim and glares at his father. My mother sees this. "Let's go get your stuff, honey. You look exhausted." I just nod at her, letting my smile drop. In spite of weeks spent in front of a mirror, I haven't fooled any one. When we reach the baggage rack Collin muscles his way through, the crowd parting easily for him, as if he carries some infectious disease. He frowns at me. "I don't know what your bags look like." I glare at him, angry that he has made me feel like a child.

I pass through behind him, floating through the crowd like a ghost. As the bags come round I point to mine, the two large suitcases I refused to let my mother and Roger drive up in the rented U-Haul. Collin shoulders them and we walk to the car.

Once I am safely ensconced inside my mother's little Acura next to Collin, who looks ridiculous scrunched into the back seat, I flick on my IPod. It comes on in the middle of a song I haven't heard in two years. It has been my own form of therapy to work through each and every one of his songs. Sixties, classic rock, country, rap, all of it. But this, this was still too raw to even think of playing. I listen, feeling the weight in my chest increase but remain curiously numb. I decide to take this a sign, of what I'm not sure, but this is him, reaching to me from somewhere else. …_wouldn't it be nice, to never be alone…_

I want to scream at him, to remind him that he has no business here, to tell that I am trying. That I am not alone and therein lies all the trouble.

Roger's house was undeniably the smallest thing I have ever seen. This is saying a lot, considering that I had just come from a week staying at my aunt's one bedroom apartment. The kitchen/dinette was only slightly bigger then a minivan and as efficient as the U.S. government. The living room was the biggest room in the house, able to hold a couch, two chairs, and a TV. I noticed without much shock that there wasn't a bookshelf; I had braced myself for this weeks ago when I heard exactly where we were going to be living.

The biggest disappointment was my bedroom. It was no bigger then my closet back home and just able to hold a bed and a stack of milk crates, it was painted a dark green that reminded of the algae that would gather on the surface of the bay back home. I remember my room back home, creamy walls hung with filmy blue drapes, crystals spun on delicate wire that hung from the ceiling and lavender that dried on my windowsill. All touchstones that reminded me of sanity, that kept out the world, that stopped the walls from closing in on me. I wonder what I will do without them.

I step into the living room just in time to see my mother kiss Roger. They both leap away and glance at me, like small children. Collin, who is sitting in a blue recliner, glares at me, warns me to step away. I don't look at any of them; just continue in my silent glide forward, staring through the door. I walk out into the world and spin, my arm pointing out. I stop with my hand pointing to the forest in back of the house.

I walk into the woods, feeling the trees rise up to hold me, watching the shadows grow. This is his world, the one that he spoke of longingly during the long days of imprisonment. He would tell me about climbing trees to find squirrels' nests, and hiking miles just for the fun of it, of swimming with ducks, and bathing in lakes. He loved it, I could tell from his voice.

I draw on this, on all of the pieces of him that I have in me. I am not a country girl. I dream in cities, of tucked away concrete havens, of hills full of stores, of a marina full of boats. I dream of the ocean and the smell of the salt, of the way the water feels around as you sink, down to the floor.

Still, I am finding a measure of comfort here, tucked into these pine trees. That is one unexpected gift that La Push has given me.

I turn back all too soon and find my mother and Roger in the kitchen, singing Yellow Submarine off-key as they make salad together. And suddenly, I hate them. I hate that they dare sing that song, that they dare be happy together. I flee to my room and refuse to come out. Dinner has become a wasted effort, with Collin off who knows where and me sulking in my room. I can feel my mother's disappointment and remember what she told me before she left.

"I really just want us to be happy, babe. I want us to start a new life with Roger and Collin. I don't want you to be sad, okay?" She said on the last day of us, mother and daughter against the world. Translation reads: I'm happy, don't ruin it for me. Time to move on already. Me, acquiescing: Yes, of course I am happy and yes, I won't be sad. All of this, said unknowingly by my silence.

That night I went over my options. I could move back in with my aunt, who collected men like they were candy and thought that pot was a major food group. She could clean up for a week but much more then that and she would snap. Option two; go to the middle of nowhere; Olustee, OK to live with my grandparents. The population of said town, 680 insane people, 5,298 cows. Option three; stay in Forks going slowly insane myself.

I thought of that, of switching the small white pills I take each morning with different ones, of spending my life alone, of all of the ways that quietly whispered….of going and not looking back. I didn't have a choice really. I was my mother's daughter, her only possession. She wasn't going to let me go.

We had been in La Push exactly one week when I meet all of Collin's friends. Actually, I wasn't sure what to call them. Most of them older then him and a few came holding laughing girls on their arms. These couples made my teeth ache. There was an older couple, not married, simply there. It seemed to be an elite club, rather then just a few friends getting together.

I only became aware of their arrival when I stepped into the hallway, singing absently. I stopped as soon as I saw them, feeling vulnerable. I wasn't a ghost any longer, not with all of these eyes on me. I suddenly felt grungy and dirty. I had stopped dressing up two years ago and wore black, baggy jeans, flannel shirts, and men's sweaters. Next to these people I looked like the bag lady who lives in a Laundromat.

The spell was broken by an older man in a wheelchair coughing and I walked into the kitchen, not acknowledging any of them. I had just set a cup on the counter when Collin walked in, looking furious. He snatched my earphones out and glared at me. "That was nice." He hissed. I glared at him and stepped closer. I had dealt with far worse then him in Monterey and it took a lot more then an angry voice to scare me. "Do you want something?" I asked with icy calm. "Yeah. I want you to come in and actually talk to everyone who came to welcome you. You were just completely rude to all of them." He snapped before grabbing my arm and dragging me in.

He thrust me into a cloud of people. "My step-sister, Rhia." He announced with a sneer. "So nice to meet all of you." I said and turned around to walk away. I felt my mother's hands on me, sticking to my back as she pulled me further into the living room. "Rhia's gonna start school tomorrow. I was wondering if you boys would keep an eye on her." A thousand muttered consents came from every corner of the room and suddenly I was stifling. "Thanks so much." I snapped and escaped back to the galley kitchen.

I studied them from the small window into the living room. There were eight boys, all looking freakishly alike. The expressions on their face, their muscles protruding from arms and legs, their military style buzz cuts. Still there was some individuality in build and features. One of the boys, whose name was Jacob, was at least seven feet and the only one with long, flowing hair. Another, whose name I didn't catch, was slender and wore a peaceful expression.

One was shorter and stocky, and held a toddler who was constantly squealing in delight. The obvious leader was the second tallest and seemed to hold himself constantly in check, showing emotion only when he looked at the woman on his arm. She was slender and had stunning long black hair, though the most striking thing about her was the three thick scars that pulled the right side of her mouth into a permanent frown. They all seemed to be waiting for someone and I heard one of them mention "saving a hotdog for Paul" but they all seemed to laugh at this.

After a few minutes of watching them my head seemed to spin and I flopped onto the table, still holding my water. I heard my IPod beep at me and the music stop. I briefly considered getting up to charge it but suddenly that seemed like too much effort. Time passed inordinately quickly as the party flowed beside me. I heard two female voices come in at one point in time, debating if they should shake me awake but they faded off too. I only jolted back to life when the back door slammed open. Another boy stood in the doorway, eyes wide, studying me. Obviously, Paul. I glared at him and flopped down with a groan.

"Hey, you gonna come get food?" A voice yelled at the kitchen and I groaned. "Shush. I'll be right there." The boy said quietly still looking at me. I stood up and glared at him. "Fuck off." I growled and left him there, looking more then slightly stunned.

I stayed in my room until my mother knocked on my door. She handed me a jacket and we both slipped outside. My mother and I looked freakishly alike, more like twins then mother and daughter. We were both short, though my mother was a good three inches taller then me, and while we weren't model skinny we weren't fat either. We had short curly hair, though my mom was a carrot top while I changed my hair color at least once a month. We had the same sparking green eyes and a light dusting of freckles along our noses.

The way we differed was our outlook on life; my mother was constantly cheerful and always found the best in everything. I was darker, with good reason. Life takes a lot out of you and if you're lucky you retain some of your happiness, if not…then you're just plain out of luck.

My mother made a living illustrating children's books; she drew whimsical fairies and rotund happy dragons. She took little pieces of her personality and left them on every page that she worked on. She had the kind of go-lucky personality that meant she could work through a tornado and as long as she had her inks and her watercolors, she was happy.

"Hay." She said, bumping me softly. "For horses." I smiled back and leaned into her. This was a good-luck charm left over from pre-school. "How you doing, baby?" She asked quietly. "Okay. Its different here, Mom. I really miss the ocean." I told her. She rubbed my arms and pulled me closer. "I know, honey. But us moving here really is best for everyone. In a few months I'm sure you'll be glad we moved here." She told herself. I let this go, feeling her need for comfort. "Probably, in the meantime I'm just glad you're here." I murmured.

We talked for a little while longer and then she turned to me, eyes shining. "Hey, did I tell you? Roger found me an office." She blurted out happily. "Yeah, where?" I asked. While I was completely indifferent about her work I was happy that she would be out of the house. Left cooped up for too long and my mother grew anxious and fidgety, constantly on my back about something.

"It's at his friend's bookshop, called Thunderbird and Whale. It sounds really nice and I'll have a whole backroom to myself." She sounded as proud, so sure that this would be perfect for her. "That's great, Mom. I'll be sure to drop in, check out the selection." I laughed. "Of course, I'll scope it out for you." She replied. After a few more minutes of aimless chatter she went inside, muttering something about helping Roger with the dishes. I stayed outside, not at all anxious to go back to my closet and wait for true night.

Eventually I did go in, but only after Roger's many and varied subtle hints had been enforced by my mother's "Rhiannon Fayleen, get inside!" I walked into my room and turned off the light, immediately flicking on my IPod. These days I didn't even try to sleep, just waited until the breathing next door evened out and deepened. Then I reached for my window and carefully slide out the screen before dropping to the ground. I didn't bother to stay and make sure that no one had heard me, I was good at this and had done it many times before.

In Monterey there was always something to do, a boat to sail, a diner to sit in, a place to hide until the sun rose and tinted the sky pink. Here, there were some trees. I sat in the forest for hours before finally making my way back home. It was useless to even try, clearly I would get no rest tonight and I resigned myself to another night of tossing and turning.

I eventually found my way home and crawled through the window. I had closed the window and was about undress when a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed my arm. I let out a gasp and kicked at the shadows. Collin walked forward, frowning. "What were you doing?" He asked sternly. "Why the hell should I tell you?" I hissed. He gently pushed me down on the bed and stood over me. "Don't do that again. You have no idea what's out there or how to protect yourself." He said as if talking to a child. "Yeah, I was just fine tonight." I spat at him. "Because I was following you the whole time." He replied.

I sat there stunned and more then slightly creeped out by this. "Get out now. Before I scream." I said, quietly and coldly. He stood there looking at me for a few minutes and then left, shaking his head. I lay there and thought of the ocean, of its pearly beaches and unpredictable waters. I thought of the sandcastles we used to make on the beaches and fell asleep with our song in my ears.

That night I wished to stay like that forever, asleep and frozen in time.

* * *

Playlist

1. Partial-Round Here by Panic! at the Disco

Excerpt in the begining

2. Wasted by Cartel

Song she listens to in the car

3. Bless the Beasts and Children by The Carpenters

Song she sings at the party

4. Sound of Pulling Heaven Down by Blue October

Song she refers to as "our song"at the end

* * *

So first of all, many apologies for not posting a new chapter in, ohh....over a year. To tell you the truth I wasn't gonna post anything at all, I was done with fanfiction. Yeah. Then i got a review, actually a couple for Cages, specifically those by .01 and BabyDawn. They both gave me awesomely long and inspiring reviews that made me look all of this over and drag out Rhia and Paul again.

And of course, after year I no longer liked the Rhia and/or Paul that i had before. Rhia was too bitchy and that was all she was, with good reason of course, but still.... And Paul was just too much, way overprotective, way in your face "I am obsessed". And looking at my writing made me cringe in horror. It's amazing how much change a year can bring. Before I thought i was a very good, totally creative writer. Now I cringe and say to my former self, "Who gave you a license to write anything? You can't even make up a good grocery list."

Former self admits to all of this but says that she was just having fun. Anyway, I'm starting on a rewrite of all of it. Out with the old and in with the new! No more very unlikely and more then slightly unbearable fanfic. So to everyone who read Cages before and liked it (or didn't), hope you like this version just as much. But I am just focusing on Cages right now, as maintaining multiple fanfics was my downfall last time. Hope you like and grab a sticker on your way out!


	3. Pearls

I'll be down in the ditches  
Fighting my own war  
Back on the benches  
To settle that old score  
But I don't want to talk about myself anymore  
I'm closing the door  
I'm closing the door

-Ditches by Children 18:3

As I walked into school the next day, an unnatural hush fell over the building. All of the students stopped whatever they were doing and turned to stare at the stranger. These definitely weren't stares of admiration or awe, these were full faced sullen scowls. I suddenly felt like an alien, unwanted and freakishly different.

The feeling wasn't helped by Collin stiffly marching beside me, or Seth Clearwater, who had been one of the boys at the party, who was walking next to Collin evaluating me. They led me through the throng of frozen people and into a door marked clearly, Office. "Thanks. I think I got it." I said in a desperate ploy to get away from them.

Collin just opened the door and walked inside, leaving Seth to shepherd me in. The room was larger then I'd expected but it was too new, too fresh to be taken seriously. The full, moon faced woman behind the desk looked up with a plastic smile ringed in cherry lipstick. Seth spoke, his deep voice a monotone. "Mrs. Hoppa. This is Rhiannon Albright, she just transferred from California." Her smile broadened, as if he had said something good. She chattered on about class and schedules, about Collin and the free milk I would receive at lunch.

The conversation moved too fast and soon I was outside the office, staring at the hostile faces again. They spoke in quiet whispers, a secret language that I didn't know. Collin walked off, happy to leave me. "First class is Algebra, over this way." Seth said cheerfully before walking off after Collin. In my head I could hear the fast, new-kid, school hallway music blaring. I decided that if my life were a movie this would be where it would fade to black and I would wake up.

The quick dash to the bathroom and rummaging through my bag pill razor bandage relief I was happy now

I floated above them then, high as a bird all day. I laughed at them, at these lonely seals, diving in and out but always separate from each other. It may be their territory, they may look at me with blood lust and mark me off into pieces, one by one. They may hunt me in their dreams but I was invincible here. The drugs burned through my veins, making me quiet and remote, a fortress amongst men. It made me feel, almost, as if I belonged.

I had to freshen up at lunch, when the courage that had seared me started to evaporate. I was becoming myself again, Cinderella at midnight with no prince in sight. The day passed quickly in an endurable haze of unfamiliar faces and the smell of chalk. We rode home with a tall thin boy who wore sadness like a shield. I wanted to press myself to him, to open up all of his secrets and pull his sorrow into me. I reminded myself that this was not my old life. A new town, a new me. I smiled prettily at him and thanked him nicely for the ride.

Inside the house was quiet. Collin immediately walked into his room, slamming the door shut. "Honey, I'm so glad you're home. How was your day and here's some brownies." I said to the empty room, singsonging a mother's after school litany. "If you want something, get it yourself." Collin grunted as walked out of his room, pulling off his t-shirt. He was lean and smooth underneath, solid and warm like a tree. He walked over to the kitchen, throwing the balled up t-shirt into a laundry hamper behind the couch. I watched the play of the shadows across his chest as he moved, then caught myself. He really was beautiful though, all of the boys were.

"Where's the nearest Laundromat?" I asked abruptly. "In Forks." He said sternly. "Where in Forks?" I asked again, this time letting the ice come into my voice. "There's one on Forks Avenue and one over on 101." He sighed as if he were doing me a favor just speaking to me. I turned and gathered up the laundry, stuffing it into a drawstring bag and then fishing quarters out of a jar on the TV. "Is there like a bus or something that goes to Forks?" Collin sighed at this question and rolled his heavenward. "No but Emily has to go into town. I guess you can ask her." I glared at him. "Fine. Where's her house?" I asked crisply.

"I'm going there anyway, you might as well come with me." He said as he jerked on shoes. I flung on my backpack and followed him out the door. We walked along a small road, with only the sound of our feet and the whistle of Collin's breath. I would never get used to the silence here. I wanted big cities, where there was enough noise to drown out the past, where there were people to casually brush against and crowd. I wanted to be able to get lost in plain sight.

Emily's house was much like every other house I had seen, small and old. This one however was gray, with a weathered blue door and window box filled with cheerful marigolds. The door opened and a boy burst out. "Hey! Finally, we've been waiting forever!" He said eagerly. "Hey, Quil." Collin sighed. "Come on in, Emily's waiting."

Inside the house the same group of boys that had come over the night before was sitting around a block table. It was heaped with food and covered in plates. There was a chorus of hellos as they spotted Collin and then they all turned back to their food. Collin slipped in between them and entered the conversation effortlessly. They all moved together, in perfect synchronization, as if they had sat here many times before. It made my throat ache, this easy companionship.

Through the doorway in front of me I could see a small loveseat, a TV, and a rocking chair. Emily sat in the rocking chair, her lap full of a delicate lace, her knitting needles clacking. "Boys, save some for the others." She said, not looking up from her knitting. "When are you leaving?" Collin asked. "Why? Want to get rid of me?" She asked, chiding him gently. "Of course not. Rhia needs to go into town." He answered his mouth full of food. At this Emily stood up and walked into the kitchen, embracing me.

It was this, a simple hug, that shocked me. For the past two years people had avoided me, as if by touching me they would catch the black sorrow that nestled inside of me. I backed away slowly and put on my best look-don't-touch face. She stepped back and smiled sadly at me before turning to the boys. "We're just waiting for Sam and Paul." She said. At this last name a hush fell over the group and they all looked displeased. Paul….I tried to match the face with a name and came up blank.

They all settled down and went back to talking, throwing rolls across the table at each other. The boy who had driven us home that day, the one with large sad eyes, pulled out a chair and motioned me over. I went. I sat and I took food. I ate. I did not talk but I ate. I watched them.

The door burst open with a sudden bang and Sam walked in. His face was glowing and he went straight to Emily, arms open wide. The sight of it made me want to throw something. I glared at nothing in particular as the chatter around me rose up into the air. I sat for another half hour as Emily bustled about, telling this boy to wash dishes and that boy to dry. This was a little paradise that was solely under her control. It made me feel itchy.

In the car silence reigned. Emily would introduce one subject and I would mutter something inconsequential, closing off conversation before it started. Eventually she reached forward and turned on the radio. Bright strumming filled the car, the kind that took a moment and froze it in sepia, holding it bright and spinning above the world. The words made my mouth go cotton dry, ache with memory. I opened my hand and found a perfect petal, blown away from its motherland.

_How do I know why the sight of you makes me weak, _

_each time I see you turn onto my street,_

_Your hair is always up in a bun,_

_This girl's the one_

In the laundromat the air was comforting, filled with flannel and detergent. There was something about laundromats that drew misfits, the quiet edge of society. The was the young man washing his shirts, a few baby clothes thrown in with rough jeans and torn t-shirts. There was the older couple who folded their laundry in synchrony, smiling at each other. There was the young mother who shoveled loads of clothes into a washer and tried to soothe her children, all the while staring longingly out the window, wishing herself away. Then there was me, the silent fly on the wall of their lives, watching it all.

I had always found laundromats comforting, a way to ground my errant mind and draw some pretense of sanity. It was better in Monterey, more people, open later, more places to hide. Still, this was nice. It gave me a layer of sanity to cling too.

As I folded my clothes Emily pulls up and parks, anxiously stepping inside to join me. "Rhia! Wait 'til you see what I got! It was clearance day over at the market, I found a bunch of great deals." She said, smiling kindly. I wondered what exactly you said to that. "Great. Sounds good." I said, making an effort at polite conversation, as she was my ride home. She quietly folded the last few shirts and helped me as I stuffed everything back into my bag, apparently pleased with my small contribution.

That night the stars came out full force, dancing around the trees. I slipped out of my window, waiting for Collin to jump out of a shadow and shout Boo. Nothing happened though. I walked for what seemed like miles and miles, watching the lights above me glow. I finally reached a cliff and stood above the ocean, so different from mine it was like they were different species. Until now I hadn't seen the charm of this cold angry sea, hadn't seen the beauty hidden underneath the surface.

I watched as the moon floated down and settled over the ocean like a pearl, shining and glittering. I watched the world spin into one point just in front of me and fade away into nothing. He comes to me then all smiling eyes and quiet voice telling me over and over again how much he loves me. I see my whole life spread out in the air, fairy tales spun in ignorance, the quiet twists and turns.

I remember a story my mother used to read me as a child. It was about an old man who lived in the forest and had a huge pearl necklace that he kept in a box. Every night he would open the box and take one pearl off the strand. Then he would walk through the woods to the ocean where he would throw the pearl into the sky. Every night he made the moon rise and every morning it would melt to nothing. As a child the thing that impressed me the most was the way he held the pearl, as if it were something fragile and precious. Even then I wished that someone would hold me that way.

Slumber Song

Some day, if I should ever lose you

will you be able then to go to sleep

without me softly whispering above you

like night air stirring in the linden tree

Without my waking here and watching

and saying words as tender as eyelids

that come to rest weightlessly upon your breast

upon your sleeping limbs, upon your lips?

Without my touching you and leaving you

alone with what is yours, like a summer garden

that is overflowing with masses

of melissa and star-anise?

-Rainer Rilke

* * *

As always its taken me months to update, as procrastination is my middle name. Still better late then never. I just saw New Moon last night and decided the only reason for watching it is Jacob-actualy, random guy who plays Jacob-'s half naked scenes. Is it just me or did Kirsten Stewart and Robert Pattinson get even more melodramatic and over the top? It made me laugh.

Oh, almost forget playlist!

Partial-Ditches by Children 18:3

Begining of chapter

Partial-Vegetable Car by Joshua Radin

song they listen to in the car


End file.
